


Loving without a Heart

by Technically



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Genderbending, Robot/Human Relationships, robot derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Technically/pseuds/Technically
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't have a heart, blood, or guts; but warm hands and a caring face can do a lot more than Stiles ever dared to imagine.</p><p>AU where Stiles is a young woman who, after searching for months, finally stumbles upon a broken robot. It looks like trash, but there isn't a job that Stiles can't fix. After about a year of hard work she has patched him up well enough, and decides to start him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Nights We Spent Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first fanfic on AO3. I'm not native English, and this chapter was not beta'd (please keep that in mind). Constructive criticism (or any comment with your opinion) is very welcome!  
> Enjoy reading!

“There,” Stiles muttered under her breath, narrowing her eyes.

Her lips were parted slightly, and she wetted them with her tongue. She bent forward, arching her already soaring back even more. Her hands shook as she ran her fingers down the smooth skin, searching for bumps or dents. Her eyelids were heavy, blocking the flickering lights when they fell. She fought against the need to sleep.

The effects of the hard and precise work were visible on her pale face. Her eyes were red with bags underneath them. She had chewed on her lips out of nervousness; now they were swollen and chapped. The sleepless nights of labour that demanded her unwavering attention had taken their toll.

The incessant flow of energy and curiosity had been driving her forwards, pushing her to her limits; and now it was ebbing away. In its place, a sense of bliss began to settle.

She had always tried to tone her excitement down, because it was a hard task that hadn’t been likely to end well. There had been many disappointments and obstacles on the way, and they had shattered her hope more than once. But, she had taken the blows, fixing them one way or another. She had been patient and careful to keep her expectations realistic.

But now, as the grand finale of her masterpiece neared, the contained euphoria was seeping out. The aches and injuries that had piled up over time were forgotten. The end was so close now that it almost seemed surreal. Naturally, the lack of sleep and light-headedness reinforced that feeling. It reminded of the clouded elation one would feel before dying, like a brain out of oxygen. The fog that filled her head grew thick and heavy.

It felt great.

The ache in her back, her stiff muscles, empty stomach and watery eyes, not to mention the many cuts and bruises, were all drowned in a sickeningly sweet bliss. The skin on her hands felt raw and fragile. Red lines scattered over it even though she wore protecting gloves. Thin, fingerless gloves, true, but she needed the accuracy of her long, bony fingers. Working with the complexity of the machinery was nerve wracking as it was; she didn’t mind ruining her nails to make it a little easier. The danger of toying with such a delicate system was very real. She didn’t mind the metals pricking in her skin or slicing it, so gently she only noticed when the blood was dripping down her hands. That was still far better than being electrocuted or losing a finger. She considered the breakdown of one of the apparatuses even worse than that.

She sat back, attempting to get a critical view on it. In vain she tried, for the drowsiness made it impossible to stay focussed for long. She leaned against the wall behind her for support. Her eyes closed. She yawned, scratching her hair that had been tied into a sloppy knot. Her hand fell back next to her, and her muscles relaxed. She realised how tired she really was, and how she had ignored even her basic needs. Merely a few minutes had passed before she fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

“Stiles,” A hand gently shook her shoulder, “Stiles, wake up.”

She opened her eyes to see her father bent over her. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Concern was apparent on his face. In an automatic attempt to reassure him that she was fine, she smiled weakly. It didn’t seem to work though. He furrowed his brow even further. Maybe she just made herself look like quite the lunatic. At least she was alive.

“Morning dad,” She yawned.

He helped her up, and she quickly cast a glance over his shoulder towards her masterpiece. For such an ungodly hour, she could already feel the first wave of exhilaration hit her. A small grin played on her lips. In the corner of her eye she could see her father giving her a less enthusiastic look.

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and then gently held her chin in his fingers, forcing her to look at him. His eyes rested upon her for a moment before he sighed deeply. For as much as he tried to support her in her passion, he was still her father, and he was worried. She knew she looked terrible, and it was apparent that she had neglected herself. But it was not too bad, she told herself; nothing a bath, a bed and clean clothing couldn't fix.

“I know you love working on this but that doesn’t go at the expense of your own health.”

“I know, dad, but-” She mumbled sleepily.

“You can’t even think properly in this state,” He shook his head. “This isn’t the first time it happens. You know that we made a deal that you could only spend a few hours a day working on it.”

She hadn't intended to burden him, knowing that he was working hard and that her "hobby" wasn't quite a benefit to him. She couldn't tell whether he was more disappointed or frustrated; he seemed too tired for both of them. He stroked her hair, his forehead wrinkled but his eyes were soft. She bit her lip, knowing that he just cared for her.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing to yourself? To me?”

She flinched at that. Nothing of the joy she had felt moments ago was left. He looked down for a moment.

“Sweetie, I didn’t intend to make you feel even worse,” He retreated, resting one hand on her shoulder and squeezing it softly. “I just want you to know that I love you and that it’s important for me that you are in good health, regardless of how badly you want to work.”

“I know,” She sighed. “Sorry.”

He kissed her forehead, smiling reassuringly. “Time for breakfast.”

She didn’t feel the hunger until she set her teeth in the freshly baked bread. A muffled moan escaped her lips. Her father chuckled and heat rose to her cheeks. He sat down across her, the newspaper in his hands. The smell of pressed coffee beans filled the kitchen, rousing her hunger even more. She stuffed chunks of bread into her mouth and chewed almost frantically. Her father sighed and shook his head subtly, turning the next page of the newspaper.

“For as much as you would like to call yourself a scientist or a technician, you certainly remind of a savage animal.”

She waved him off with her free hand, mouth too full to speak, and then reached for her steaming cup of coffee. The hot beverage burned her tongue, but she gulped it down nonetheless. As soon as she had stuffed herself with two bread rolls and coffee, she leaned back into her chair, allowing herself to take a deep, satisfied breath.

“Looks like you have gotten pretty far now, don’t you? Is it ready?” Her father asked her over the edge of his cup.

She nodded eagerly, “I think today is the day. I will do one last quick check-up, and then, finally, it will become evident whether or not it was worth all the time and effort.”

Her father rolled his eyes. She had been overseeing every single detail there was for the past three days already. It didn’t surprise him it had taken her roughly a year of work to get this far.

There was a glint in his eyes though, a certain pride he couldn’t suppress. The way he looked at his daughter, sitting there with the grace of a sack of potatoes and looking as though she had been living in the woods for he past week, was warm and soft. He acknowledged her endeavours and praised them without words. And frankly said, she was proud too. Proud, and very, very tired.

They both remembered when she came home with that wreck, excited like a little child. It had looked like garbage and an impossible dream of hers, so he had tried to temper her passion. He didn’t know much about machinery though, so it wasn’t as easy to explain as he had thought it would have been. Overall, she had labelled his knowledge of technical matters as ‘unimpressive’ at most. The stubborn way in which she had continued to believe in her fortune made her smile now. It seemed so long ago. In the end, she had surprised him. She had surprised herself as well. She had developed new abilities, deepened her insight, explored limits and pushed boundaries. He had been stricken by her willpower and discipline, although somewhere he knew she had always had in within her. If she were honest, her passion had almost become an obsession. But now the hard work would come to and end, and hopefully it would pay off.

“Go to bed, Stiles,” Her father muttered. “And take a shower. You’re smelly.”

She didn’t protest. It didn’t surprise her that she reeked, and a little sleep in a proper bed wouldn’t hurt. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure when exactly she had last showered or slept in her own bed; probably a few days ago. A shower and a nap sounded perfect now. And afterwards, the moment she had been awaiting would finally come.


	2. A Blank Page

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will still consist of some more introducing and providing information, so it's a little slow (and perhaps kind of boring) but from the next chapters on more and more will really be happening. No worries! Please keep in mind that I'm not native English and that this was not beta'd. Thanks you! Enjoy!

 

The eyes opened, and they found hers. Its irises were dark brown, detailed like an actual human eye. It blinked. As soon as its eyelids rose again and the light of the room hit its eyes, the pupil constricted. It looked so real, as if she were looking at an actual human being. She realised she had held her breath, and exhaled slowly. A tension ran through her body, one of excitement and anticipation.

She leaned back slightly, giving it some space to check up the rest of the body. Her hand rose in mid-air, stuck on whether to touch or withdraw. It just looked so much like an actual human. She let her hand linger briefly over the torso, before pulling it back, nearly touching its hand. The skin appeared soft; the nails stronger and rougher than hers. She could see the bone structure very subtly through the veinless skin. It was truly a masterpiece.

The robot didn't move anymore, remaining quiet as it lied on the ground on its back. It had pinned its eyes on her, scanning her, taking her face in. She knew this process would take a while. The thing was starting up, and for the whole process to fully activate, minutes, hours or possibly even days could pass by. After all, it wasn't just a mere machine; it was a humanoid like no other, unique like all the rest of humanity and nearly equally as efficient.

As the process started, she could hear the system running. Usually, robots of any kind that resembled humans had systems that were practically completely silent. It was only the start-up that would be noisy. At least, she hoped so.

She had been sitting by his side for a half hour when the intense cacophony of buzzing and zooming finally petered out. Quite unsure of what to do, she bent forward a little. Just as she leaned closer to its face, it closed its eyes and the mechanical hum began once again. She sighed, barely audible, and relaxed again. Her fingers tapped on the carpet in a restless rhythm.

Six hours passed. Stiles doubted whether she had ever spent so much time at once doing absolutely nothing. Even though the noise had ceased once again, she didn't know whether it was ready or not. The fear of missing something important kept her in the room. It might just start speaking while she’s gone.

It had opened its eyes again and set their focus on her. The expression on its face didn’t change at all though, and she briefly feared that maybe the facial motorics were malfunctioning.

She rubbed in her eyes, telling herself it was too early to start worrying again. Instead, she took a moment to simply examine the face. From the structure of the facial features to the texture of the skin, everything looked perfectly smooth and real. For a moment she allowed herself to imagine it was a creature of flesh and blood. A handsome man, she admitted. What a catch.

Yet whatever fantasies she would allow herself, it was and would always remain a machine. Truly, it wasn't merely a robot; it was a masterpiece. But nothing more. Metals and hardware.

She fiddled with her nails, quite bored. She had left the room in the past hours only once; to pee, that was. An empty mug and a plate with a few slices of cake stood nearby. Her father had brought them when she had refused to leave the robot alone while it was starting up. He had come to say goodbye and wish her well before he left for work. That had been over three hours ago. She really needed to use the bathroom again.

Times like these made her regret that she hadn’t called a friend over to be there with her. But sometimes she just plainly forgot the outside world. Next to that, she had no idea where she had left her phone. She glanced at her watch. Isaac or Allison could come over any moment, if they intended to visit her. It was already afternoon after all, and her friends had been well aware that one of these days the start-up would begin.

Their visits had been frequent and their company very encouraging. She longed to see them again. Though, Scott and his mother had left for a brief vacation. Perhaps Erica would tag along with Isaac. Stiles had grown tired of the lonely silence by now. Glancing cautiously over at the robot, she wondered if it would make good company. She pursed her lips at the thought, fiddling with her sleeves. The humanoid was still frozen on the ground before her, motionless. If she listened very closely, past the ticking sound of the drizzle outside and the howling of the wind, she could hear a soft vibration coming from the machine. She wondered what was going on through its head, noticing her tiny reflection in his glassy eyes. It would have been interesting to know what characteristics or distinguishing elements it registered from her. At least, she hoped it did that and would recognise her as the master. Maybe she was supposed to say something, tell it her name. But was it waiting, or still processing? There was possibly a risk of interrupting something important if she spoke. Though, after over six hours of sitting at the side of a still robot, her patience faltered.

“I am Stiles.”

He didn’t react. No blink, no change in his look, not even the slightest twitch. She waited. After several minutes, she sighed and let herself fall back carefully so she lied on the floor.

Unfortunately, she had not been very familiar with the learning program that she found and recovered within him. It was one of the most important parts of any robot, because it allowed a machine to apprehend and comprehend many things, from emotions and gestures to phrasing and any skills, throughout experience. She had left the default settings on. It was uncommon to do that, since it was very much like leaving the paper blank. People often installed their names and key information (such as basics about human functioning and robot functioning) before awakening the robots. This was a very important and partially irreversible job. When done correctly it would save both parties a lot of frustrations concerning learning skills and the general knowledge of the robot. But, since she wasn’t a professional and had preferred playing safe, she had left it that way.

She was glad to see that so far everything seemed fine. It didn’t seem to overheat anywhere. Anywhere she had dared to feel it up, that was. It looked very much like a regular human after all, and she couldn’t help herself but respect its privacy. Not that it had developed a sense of privacy yet, for that was something robots had to learn through experience and explanation. Unless of course that had already been programmed in the settings.

Furthermore, there had been parts of him that she hadn’t been able to unlock, and she didn’t know what effect they would have on him. Maybe they were programs, data, or perhaps they weren’t that important at all. It had been things like small chips. She had noted some damage, but hadn’t been able to tell how bad it was since she couldn’t break through the protection. The previous owner had set up so much guarding that Stiles could only hope there wouldn’t be anything dangerous on it.

His head moved, snapping her out of her thoughts. He looked around, and once again she was hit by his striking resemblance to a real man.

“Hello,” She greeted him again, licking her lips, “My name is Stiles.”

She had no idea whether such a complicated robot, one set on default for that matter, had to be greeted in a specific way. Did she have to mention her full name and that she was its master? Was she supposed to explain anything, or ask anything?

Minutes passed by in complete silence.

There were a few knocks on the door, and she could hear it opening without being answered. Its familiar creak was nice to hear, as it was associated with the arrival of her friends. Isaac and Erica entered the messy room, muttering a few last words about a discussion Stiles didn’t catch. They silenced when they saw the robot on the floor, now staring at them.

The robot’s brow furrowed slightly, its eyes narrowing for a moment. It was processing new information.

Stiles jumped up, hurried towards them, and pulled them closer to the machine. “Isaac,” She said while pointing at the guy, then moved her index finger to Erica, making sure the robot’s eyes were following, “Erica.”

It didn’t react. Only the slight frown remained, and the stare. The head hadn’t even moved from its position. Processing. She hoped it wouldn’t take forever.

There was a brief silence, before Erica whispered: “Does it do anything?”

“Nah,” Stiles sighed and shrugged, “It has been starting up and staring. That’s all.”

“It looks kind of scary,” Isaac muttered.

“Scary?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow and looked at the manlike machine. It looked absolutely fine to her. Then again, she had been working on every inch of that body, inside and outside, for months, so she had gotten used to it quite well.

She moved to the couch in the corner of the room and they followed her. Lifelessly, she dropped herself onto it. Fatigue washed over her, and she rubbed her temples briefly, closing her eyes.

“You look exhausted,” Isaac muttered in concern.

“I _am_ exhausted.”

Erica turned around, “I’ll get something to drink. You’ll feel better after some coffee, and I could use some too.”

Isaac followed her immediately. “Since I’m sure you haven’t eaten since your father left, I think a sandwich wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”

Caring as they were, they left with that promise. She smiled, and was glad her friends helped her out in their own ways. Just as she opened her eyes again and raised her hand to draw their attention, the door closed behind them. She had really preferred going to the toilet first.

They were already gone and didn’t hear her calling them back. It was more of a whine than a call, but she was alone nonetheless. Technically, she was not completely alone anymore, in some way.

Her eyes drifted through her workroom. It was a mess. Papers, documents, gears, tools, breadcrumbs and stains; everything was everywhere. She had grown used to it. Soon, she would have to clean it all again. Segregate the files, collect the empty plates, arrange pieces of metal, swipe the windows, …

The days and nights of seemingly endless work were over. It gave off a sort of tranquil feeling, as if the storm had passed. Things looked a little empty now, and somewhat meaningless. The thrill of lighting and thunder had been harsh and had made her restless as it had raged over her. But she had grown used to the little flashing lights. And the ceaseless buzz had gotten a familiar ring to it. Yes, the storm had passed. She found herself left with the chaos, not quite alone. Amidst of it was a single robot, staring at her with a blank expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a kudo or comment :)


	3. What's In A Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to happen. A bit of a slow chapter, but we're getting more into the story. Some subtle Erica x Isaac in this chapter. Also, yes, title is a reference to Shakespeare's work, and there's another small reference in the chapter, but you don't have to be familiar with it to understand it. Remember that English is not my mother language and this chapter is unbeta'd.  
> Enjoy!

“Stiles.”

She was startled awake by the sudden call of her name, promptly losing her balance and falling off the couch. Mumbling vague curses under her breath, she rubbed in her eyes and tried to remember where she was.

“I’m here, dad,” She said and yawned.

She rolled onto her back, kicking away a spoon she had forgotten to return to the kitchen in the process. A folder poked in her back, but she couldn’t be bothered by it. The floor was comfortable enough. She didn’t remember seeing her dad or falling asleep in the evening though. She didn’t recall anything of the evening.

“Stiles.”

She froze. That wasn’t her father’s voice. It was also too heavy and deep to belong to one of her friends. Quickly, she propped herself up on her elbows to look around. She met eyes with the robot. It was sitting on the seat where they had put it yesterday. She could hardly believe the thing had finally spoken.

Her face reddened remarkably as she scrambled to her feet. She noticed the darkening sky through the window, and then remembered Isaac and Erica had left earlier than usually. She had fallen asleep on the couch because the robot wasn’t responding to anything. The only thing about it was the slight furrow in its brow, which had loyally remained there ever since the first frowned. The evening was merely settling in.

“Hello,” She said, feeling quite dumbfound and too sleepy to make up something better in her fuzzy head.

No answer.

“You’re a grumpy one, aren’t you?” She muttered, giving it a slightly challenging look.

When it didn’t respond to that either, she rolled her eyes and stretched. Her father would come home any moment. Just when she thought that, she could hear the grind gnashing as her father drove onto the ramp. She went to the window and peeked through the half closed curtains. Her father saw her and waved, holding a bag of groceries in his other hand.

She turned to the robot, which sat motionlessly. For a moment it looked like a picture; its chest did not rise and fall, its hand lay perfectly still in his lap, even its clothing and hair didn’t move.

“Stay,” She said while pointing at it, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She nodded slowly, hoping it would at least mimic the gesture. It only blinked and watched her leave. She glanced over her shoulder one last time. “I will be right back!”

* * *

An hour had passed before she returned, along with Isaac and Erica. They had come to visit after dinner, curious to find out whether the robot would start working properly soon.

“Has it still not done anything?” Isaac asked worriedly.

Stiles shrugged. “Except for calling my name twice and thus waking me up, no.”

Erica fancied herself on the sofa that had been moved from the wall to stand in front of the robot. “So, why did it call you?”

“I don’t know. I said "good morning" but it didn’t answer anymore.”

“Well, at least it means it understood something,” Erica shrugged, “That’s kind of a good sign.”

Isaac nodded slowly, “Maybe it needs time, you know, to settle and grow comfortable.”

“Like a pet?” Erica ran her hand through her long hair, looking at Isaac in a peculiar way.

He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged, not averting his eyes from Erica. “A pet, or a very shy, silent and uncomfortable family member.”

They both looked away. Stiles merely rolled her eyes. “Or a robot that barely restarted.”

“ _Re_ started? That’s assuming he’s already been started up once,” Isaac remarked.

Stiles raised her eyebrows. “Most likely so. I mean, who would throw a beauty like that in the trash without even trying it. I’m not super confident in my knowledge about the standard innards and programs in such a delightful piece of mechanical art, but I’m fairly sure someone has adapted a few things, if not more, to their own liking.”

“She has a point,” Erica said, “He’s gorgeous.”

“That was not my point,” Stiles dryly commented.

Isaac rolled his eyes and sat down next to Erica. The two of them eyed the humanoid. Stiles moved over to stand behind them and peered at the machine over their heads.

“What if he doesn’t do anything?” She mumbled, “What if the system doesn’t work properly and this is all he will be able to do. Ever.”

Erica let her head fall back to look upside down at Stiles. “And since when did you turn into such a defeatist.”

Stiles shrugged. She was just afraid. All her work could be in vain. If it didn’t work properly, it could take her months to figure out what was causing the defect. And would she actually be able to fix the bug if it would be found? Thinking about it made her feel quite hopeless indeed.

“What name are you going to give it?”

When the silence grew long between them, the two looked back at Stiles. She had her eyes pinned on the still robot in the chair, before looking down at them with a bit of a goofy smile.

“A name?”

Isaac shook his head and Erica rolled her eyes. Stiles blushed slightly, embarrassed by her forgetfulness. The thought of naming the robot hadn’t occurred to her at all. She had been trying to wrap her head around its awakening and the possible cause of his malfunctioning, if “not speaking and barely reacting to anything” could be counted as an error in the system.

“I’ll think of it overnight. It’s not likely that it will do anything by tomorrow morning anyway.”

“Are you going to give it a human name or more like a robot or pet name?” Erica asked curiously.

“What’s with the pets?” Isaac muttered, but he was ignored.

Stiles raised an eyebrow to Erica. “Why, have any suggestions?”

She shook her head, brushing her curly blond hair over her shoulders. Isaac tapped his knee, feeling a little left out. “What are you going to do with it now? I mean, if it starts doing what it’s supposed to do.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles rested her elbows on the back of the sofa. “Just the regular I guess. Teach it how and what and then make use of it like one would make use of a robot, I suppose.”

“You’re lucky you won’t have to share it with any siblings,” Isaac noted, though he didn’t have any siblings himself; not anymore.

“You’re lucky it got such a handsome face. Look at that,” Erica rested her elbows on her thighs and cupped her face with her hands.

Isaac shot her a brief look, as if he were slightly troubled or discomforted by the remark, but he quickly went back to studying his nails.

“Jealous?” Erica grinned, peeking at him from between her locks.

“Jealous of a robot, really?” He cocked his head slightly with a jeering expression, “Just because he has a pretty face doesn’t mean he has the social skills to make use of it.”

“As if you have the social skills to make use of yours.” Erica mocked him playfully.

Before he could come up with a clever comeback, he realised what she had implied. He grinned, but was too shy to answer. Erica tried hiding her rosy cheeks behind her hair.

* * *

When Stiles sat with her father later that evening, enjoying a late night snack, she mentioned the name issue. He inhaled deeply, giving her a puzzled look, and eventually just shrugged. “Does it matter that much?”

“Dad, it’s a name, of course it matters,” She said between bites.

He smiled knowingly, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. She didn’t remember him looking so old already. His skin seemed thinner than she thought it had been. She traced the visible veins on his hands with her eyes. It seemed such a long time ago since they had been together like that; no stress, no tiredness and no hard work ahead. He caught her hand in his one. It felt calloused, but warm. She met his eyes, painted with the colours of wisdom, age and fatherly love. He leant forward slightly, as if he was letting her in on a secret.

“Roses smell sweet under any name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a kudo or comment :)


	4. Complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek starts talking! Erica is very excited about it, much like Stiles. There's also more Erica x Isaac, and some attention to the friendship between the three of them.  
> I am not native English. This chapter was not beta-read.  
> Enjoy!

“Stiles,” She said, loud and clear. Her index finger pointed directly at herself. Her eyebrows arched and she gave him a nod. He nodded back to her. It wasn’t the best reaction, but an improvement nonetheless. If only he didn’t have that apathetic, bored look on his face with the stern eyebrows. That would make a great difference.

She pointed a finger at him, and wetted her lips.

“Derek,” He said.

She froze, mouth opened and eyes pinpointed on him. For several seconds she remained like that, mouth slightly ajar and eyebrows arched. Words and questions filled her head but not a decent sentence was to be found.

“Derek,” She finally breathed.

A wide smile spread across her face. She couldn’t help it. “Derek.”

He nodded. “Derek.”

“Derek,” She repeated. “Derek!”

“Stiles,” He interrupted her.

She looked expectantly at him. There was a little pause before she realised he didn’t really have anything to say, but just wanted her to shut up. “Yes, Derek?” She replied sweetly.

“Stiles,” He said in a low voice, squinting his eyes a bit at her. She had never seen someone so badly in need of the words “shut up”.

“It’s alright,” She said. Hopefully it would take a while before he learned or remembered any rude words. “I am Stiles. You are Derek.”

He blinked slowly. Despite his disinterest, she couldn't help but smile brightly. Too bad he didn’t copy that, but sooner or later he would probably learn to do that too. Her hands were sweaty. They were itchy to do stuff, to explore his limits, to teach him, to show him the world. How to start though? How could she figure out what he could already manage on his own, and what needed attention? Perhaps a direct approach was worth trying.

“Derek, can you tell me what you know?” She asked.

His eyes lit up in a blue colour. “Specifications?” It didn’t sound much like a question, but she didn’t mind his intonation.

“Eh,” She scratched the back of her neck, “How’s your English?”

“Basics are installed. Learning-mode on.”

“What languages do you know?”

“English. French. Spanish. German. Russian.”

She marvelled at the brightness of his blue eyes as he stared at a fixed point in the distance. The least she could say was that she was very content with how things were going so far, and his knowledge of languages was pretty impressive. “How is their state?”

“Basics installed. Learning on.”

Too bad it would most likely remain basic. She was better at math and mechanics than at languages. If anything, he could probably improve her French. She was excited though. “What else can you do?”

 “What can you do, Stiles?” He suddenly asked, eyes morphing back to their usual dark brown.

She was taken aback and made a startled face. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes at her. Stiles took a moment to attempt to understand what was going on. There seemed to be a whole world inside of his head already, and she couldn’t quite understand it. Not yet. He didn’t seem to be like she had thought he would be, at all. Instead of being lifeless and just listening to what she said, he interacted with her almost like a human would. A grumpy, confused, scowling human, with the occasional flicker of blue light in his eyes. She liked it.

* * *

Erica practically ran into the room with Isaac following with less visible excitement. Stiles came in last, not able to suppress a proud and slightly smug smile.

“Derek?” Erica asked.

He looked at her. “Erica.”

She fist pumped the air. “That’s so cool!” Then turned to Stiles, “It’s so awesome! It looks totally real! If you could get me one too…” She winked.

Stiles grinned proudly. Erica’s excitement only added to her own, and she needed to stay motivated and optimistic just in case. “Sure thing. You’ll have to pay me richly for that though.”

Isaac seemed rather unsure about it, and stiffened slightly when the android looked over to him. The android blinked slowly, greeting him with a dull “Isaac.”

“Ok,” Isaac nodded. “That’s kind of creepy.”

“Hey,” Stiles poked him playfully, “Don’t be rude.”

Erica flashed him a smile. “No need to be jealous. I like the way you say my name better.”

He reddened visibly. Stiles snickered. They could be adorable if they wanted to. The “it’s-not-flirting” flirting had been going on for a while now, but they were both too shy to admit anything to each other. Instead, they had usually turned to Stiles. It had been a while since one of them had actually talked to her about it, and hopefully that was a good sign.

Isaac fiddled with his sleeves. “Haha. Ok. I get it.” He rolled his eyes with a small smile. “The android is really nice. Happy now?”

“Very,” Erica confirmed, “Very happy. You know how hard Stiles worked on it.”

Stiles shook her head. “You guys, really.”

They ate together and discussed what was going on in their lives. Stiles loved to hear the fun stories they had, about how Isaac had beaten Scott’s record during Lacrosse training, or about how Erica had gone to a café with Allison and Lydia to share the latest gossips. But there were less nice things to talk about too. Troubles that Stiles wished she could fix for them.

But she could not heal Erica from her epilepsy. Yet Erica could find solace in Stiles’ embraces and talk her heart out on how scared she was for the future. Embarrassing herself was just minor to what Erica’s future would behold. Driving a car was impossible, getting a job would be difficult, and being in public was and would always be a scary event. There was a persistent voice in the back of Erica’s head, never ceasing to remind her that every second she could lose consciousness. Stiles was there to remember her that she would be loved and helped by her friends through all of it.

She could not make turn Isaac’s dad into a good father. But Isaac could find safety when he was with Stiles. The Sheriff was aware of his circumstances, but Isaac had pleaded not to sue his father. It was the only family member he had left. Just a little longer, and Isaac would move out. He needed his father now, even it was just for a house and nutrition, and even if it came with frequent beatings. Stiles was there to provide him from a warm house, a listening ear and a helpful hand when his father didn’t.

They couldn’t solve each other’s problems, but they could talk about them. They helped each other. Isaac and Erica supported each other, and were there for Stiles too. They had been there when Stiles had lost her mother. And they were there every lonely night she woke up in her bed, bathing in cold sweat.

* * *

“You’ve been quiet the whole time. Surely you’ve been listening to everything we’ve said, huh?” Stiles asked while she picked up some empty plates and mugs.

Derek sat in the couch. She turned to him when he didn’t answer. They had ignored him for the past few hours, and he had done nothing. She wondered whether that was okay to do. Of course it wouldn’t really matter for an android, but she couldn’t help but feel like she had neglected an actual human being.

She put the plates and cups down on the coffee table. Quietly she sat down next to him and wondered what she could say. “So, was there something you didn’t understand, or want to know more about?”

He eyed her, but didn’t say anything. Was that not the right topic for a conversation, did he prefer being left alone, or was he kind of shy? Could an android even be some kind of shy?

“Erica really likes you,” Stiles continued, trying to sound convincing.

“Isaac does not like me,” He said.

It sounded almost like a question, but she didn’t really know. Perhaps she should work on her own communication skills before she tried to teach them to him.

“He likes Erica,” Stiles stated.

Derek frowned. “He likes Erica so he doesn’t like me?”

“No,” Stiles shook her head and gestured vaguely, “He is afraid Erica likes you more than him. He wants Erica to like him."

“Erica does not like him?”

Stiles realised how confusing humans could be, and shrugged. “Erica likes him. She said she liked the way he pronounced her name better than how you did it, remember? That’s how she told him that he shouldn’t be afraid, that she liked him.”

He was silent for a moment. “Then why is he afraid?”

“Because everything changes all the time. Tomorrow she could stop liking him. Humans need to be reminded of things because otherwise we become afraid they have changed.”

He nodded slowly, and she was surprised her explanation had somehow made sense to him. The silence between them grew again, and Stiles felt the need to fill it. She studied her nails. “Erica and Isaac have been liking each other for a very long time, but they’re too shy to admit it to each other. They keep getting closer, but they’re too scared to get together. They think they’re not good enough for each other.”

“Complicated,” He concluded.

She nodded. “More than you think. But it’s worth it.”


	5. I am here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets sick in this chapter, now papa Stilinski and Derek have to take care of her.  
> I am not native English. This chapter was not beta-read.  
> Enjoy~ !

He rested his hand on her forehead. “Temperature is 37.4° and presumably rising.”

She didn’t have a headache anymore; not after having taken another pain killer. Though there had been a persistent throb pulsing through her head. It took a moment before she understood what exactly he had said, but she had no idea what the average temperature of one’s forehead should be. She had no idea about any temperatures of the human body. Being someone who possessed little knowledge when it came to health, she merely shrugged.

His eyes darted over her, taking notice of her appearance. He was searching for hints of discomfort and possible signs of anything malfunctioning. She wasn’t quite sure what he registered, but saw his brow furrow more than it already did. “You are overheating. Please rest and minimize use of power.”

She snorted, “You want me to close my tabs?”

He shot her a grave look, even though he was, or at least should be, well aware that she was not capable of having tabs. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, he was still watching her, with seemingly endless patience. It was unrealistic for her to expect him to understand the burn of a stare. His eyes narrowed for a moment, as if he was processing some information, but then he returned to his fixed stare.

In a low and stoic voice, he warned her. “You might damage your system.”

She smiled reassuringly, despite of how sick she felt. “I’m sure my system is already damaged and flawed as it is. I doubt this will do much.”

He lied his hand on her shoulder. It was only a little colder than she had expected. She shivered.

“Rest.”

She sighed, and closed her eyes again. There was no arguing with him now. Not only did she lack the energy to fight back, but she admitted that she could use some sleep. The light feeling in her head quieted down when she relaxed a little, knowing he was still right next to her. A few minutes of silence passed. The warmth of the blanket embraced her and the arms of slumber were already reaching out for her. The only thing keeping her from falling asleep that very moment was his hand. It still rested on her shoulder, already warmer because of the skin contact.

“I’m not surprised your system is already damaged,” He said coolly.

His words shook her out of her beginning slumber. She blinked and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He looked surprised. “Why are you not resting?”

“You woke me up,” She murmured, rolling onto her side so that his hand dropped from her shoulder, fully facing him now.

“I thought you were sleeping. How do I tell when someone is sleeping?”

“I don’t know,” She yawned, “Regular breathing, and the heart rate goes down. Things like that.”

He still frowned, but seemed to be processing and understand the information. A sigh rolled over her lips and she brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. When she relaxed again and nuzzled her face into the pillow, her hair fell back onto her face. She didn’t mind, thoughts already drifting off again.

The cool touch of his fingers, stroking carefully through her hair to tuck it back again, made her heart jump in surprise. She looked confused at Derek’s hands, then at his face. He didn’t say anything. She noticed the delicacy with which he had ran his fingers through her hair. It made her heart beat faster, keeping her from her sleep once again. Surely, his fine motor skills were sharper than she had dared to believe. After experiencing some of his sometimes rough and abrupt movements, she had thought he had not quite grasped these precise functions.

“Did I interrupt your resting once again?” He asked, but didn’t wait for her answer. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok,” She muttered.

Just when she closed her eyes again, feeling the rhythm of her heartbeat slowing down again, something touched her jaw. Not surprised anymore, she tiredly opened her eyes and tried to see what he was doing. He held his index and middle finger underneath her jaw, so she only caught a glimpse of the back of his hand.

She gave him a look. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Checking your heartbeat. I will be able to tell when you are asleep by the pulse.”

“No,” She said and shifted to lie on her other side, turning her back towards him.

Her skin tingled when he pulled his hand back. She was aware of his sincerity and good motives, but she couldn’t imagine falling asleep with his eyes pinned on her and his fingers pressed against her skin.

* * *

“I’ll be fine dad,” She waved at him with her hand as if she could wipe his worries away like that, “It’s not like I haven’t been sick before.”

He sat at her bedside, still dressed in his sheriff uniform, and put his hand on her forehead. “I’ll take a few days off to take care of you.”

“No dad,” She protested, “They count on you, you know, they need you there.”

“Well I’m needed here too,” He said with the same kindness and stubbornness.

She sighed, nuzzling her face in her pillow. She tried to think of something she could tell him that would make him realise that she would be fine, but her head was fuzzy and her thoughts were slow. He gently stroked her cheek and smiled.

“If you need anything, I will be here. I’ll check on you regularly and make you something to eat later.”

He kissed her on her forehead and stood up, about to make a call to arrange things at work. Derek sat at the end of the bed, silently watching the scene. Her father left without looking at him. When they were left alone, Derek moved up closer to her.

“I am here too,” He reassured her sternly, as if he would be disappointed if she would forget.

She smiled weakly, “I know, I know.”

He carefully pressed his hand against her forehead. Even with her eyes closed she could tell it didn’t make him happy. The cool touch was surprisingly pleasant though, and he had very smooth hands. When he pulled them away her eyes opened and she parted her lips to stop him, but instead she coughed. He brushed her bangs out of her face and she leant into the touch. His fingers rested against her forehead, and she felt herself sinking away into another world.

* * *

She was startled awake, nails dug into her sheets and eyes wide open. Immediately she sat up, only to start a coughing fit. She felt as if she was choking on her own hot breath. Cold sweat coated her back and her body was shivering violently. She was surrounded by darkness and had no idea where she was. When the coughing lessened she grasped for air, nearly causing more coughing. She was still trembling and couldn't shrug of an ominous feeling. Her head felt thick with nausea. It was as if she were so tiny and alone in the darkness; it was asphyxiating.

A hand gently but firmly pressed her back down in the bed. Something cold was put on her forehead, and fingers brushed through her hair. She heard words being whispered, but couldn’t make anything out of it. The calm, low, steady voice drifted through her head and soon lulled her into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

She chewed slowly, barely tasting anything of the chicken. She hadn’t been hungry at all, but her dad had wanted her to eat and even cut it into small pieces so it would be easier. She appreciated his effort, and tried her best to eat as much of it as she could. Her dad sat by her side with his own plate on his lap.

“That android of yours makes good chicken,” He said, just to fill the silence. “Maybe you could learn it from him.”

She grinned, “Then we’ll be eating only decent meals from now on.”

“I don’t know,” He scratched his chin, “If you’re ready to live without curly fries, perhaps we will be.”

“Oh, it’s not about the curly fries, is it? You’re just afraid that you won’t get any hamburgers anymore.” She snickered and he ruffled through her hair.

“You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” He leaned in to give her a kiss on her temple.

“I learned it from the best.”

He nodded, “That's what I thought.”

He stayed with her for the rest of the afternoon, until he really had to finish some paperwork. Stiles watched her father leave the room, and saw him look at Derek for a moment. There was something in the way he looked at Derek. Stiles had understood that her father had preferred to keep his distance from the humanoid and was polite with him at most. But now, there was a sort of beginning confidence, a stern look in which he handed over responsibility to the robot and trusted him to handle it well.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment to tell me what you think about it :)


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